Dantrums

Hi. I just wanted to send a quick message to all those homo-repressed fathers out there at the Newton JCC: Please stop creeping me out. As I bend over to pick up kickboards and noodles that your careless children have left all over the pool deck, I can feel your lecherous gaze on me. Please stop staring and licking your lips. You are repulsive beyond words ( A quick note to readers: I'm not flattering myself. These men merely like that I'm young. It's not my ass they see; it is every ass they let get away in their forty-plus years of straight playacting). Normally I don't mind such attention; I even enjoy it. But you make me feel the way Catherine Keener does in "Being John Malkovich," wishing mangy John Cusack would just stop fucking looking at her.

It's not even your age that's the problem, although that's part of it. If I were eye candy for an older gay gentlemen, I could tolerate that. Lord knows I won't avoid looking at a nice young six-pack when I'm a senior. But you homo-repressed fathers are not really queer. You actually have to fuck men to be queer. You think about being queer. You aspire to being queer. But what you actually are are middle-aged men with wives and children, and when you eyeball me while holding your child's hand, it's genuinely disturbing. When you stare at me, I can feel every impulse you've stifled, all the desire left unfulfilled, all the love you have wasted, and every neurosis you created for yourself with your steadfast self-supression. The older gay man who looks at me is just horny, whereas you, homo-repressed father, are projecting mental anguish and exorcising demons. I'm willing to be a man's piece of ass, but not his shrink.

I'm sorry you felt it necessary to spend your peak sexual years with women, I really am. I wouldn't wish pussy on my worst enemy. But it's not my fault you weren't strong enough to break the chains of your own repression. Let's see, you're in your forties or fifties, which means you're at least thirty years into puberty. Thirty years! That wasn't enough time for you to get some ass on the side? You could have gotten a buddy of yours drunk in college; you could've gone after the cabana boy on your honeymoon in Hawaii; you could have set up a gaycation with other homo-repressed daddies like yourself. Fishing and fucking, fucking and fishing: Sounds pretty great. And you still have time. Pull a Ted Haggard--- feel free to leave out the crystal meth part. I would love for you to cum with another man. It's a wonderful experience.

Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I find your repression admirable in some ways. It takes dedication and strength to so completely bury sexual desire. Lord knows if I go a month without a gay blowjob I start getting tremors and cold sweats. But listen closely: There is no way it's going to be me who helps you. I have enough trouble helping myself. If you're lucky your wife is a closeted dyke and she'll understand. You guys might even be able to go cruising together---finally, something you have in common! Now if you'll excuse me, there's a hot 16 year-old in the weight room and I've got to catch him before he finishes. Don't even think about it old man--- he's mine.